Road To Ruin
The dull rumbling of unmuffled polydenum engines herlads the Dead Sun's arrival. They slowly come in from the Spaceport Ruins, engines rumbling richly through the pipes of the hoverbikes. On rider, in a hint of skill, manages to somehow get into a standing position and with one hand pull his trousers down to moon the guards at the Twin moons' entrance as they past. Chrome and midnight blue is the bike upon which Andrew 'Big Blue' Borgas rides, the chapter leader. He shows no interest in the behaviour in his minion's behaviour. The droning of hoverbikes comes in from the west as well, competing with the accompanied whooping and yelling. Buddy and The Thumbs gang come roaring through the Strand, stopping in front of the Dead Suns. "Well howdy!" Buddy greets Big Blue. "You ready to ride, old man?" Urfkgar shifts a silvery metal case from its position in some rubble beside him, picking it up after he puts away the knife and whetstone. He pops a squat to observe the bikers from a crouching position while idly scratching at his shoulder. Kolek raises a brow in curiousity at the two rival gangs, though he tries to remain discrete and blending in. Tirax steps away from the bikers, watching them carefully. Mister Pants, the rider who just mooned the Moons Casino, brings his bike to a halt before bringing his strides back up. The rest of the Suns stop their bikes, engines still rumbling. "I've still had more races than a snotty 'ose upstart like yerself ever 'ad," Blue remarks, before revving the engine. The bikes uptake is smooth and responsive. "Was born ready." Boris Boromov steps out of the casino, raising an eyebrow at the mooning gesture as the bikers pass. The surprise gives way to amusement as a grin replaces it, followed by a rough chuckle as he steps further into the street. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls a cigarette from a pack, lighting it and taking a long draw from it before exhaling a cloud of smoke around him. Satisfied, he tucks it between his lips as he focuses his attention on the gathering bikers. "You talk a lot, but I'm not seeing a lot of racing." Buddy snaps his fingers, and one of the gang hops off his bike and gets out chalk, marking what is presumably a starting line on the street. Urfkgar scratches his shoulder and stands up to get a better view of what's going on. He picks up his case. Kolek moves a little to the side so he can see past the standing Urf, getting a little closer. Tirax moves across to the same side with Kolek and Urf, in fact rather close to the two of them. The Dead Sun clear out of the way. Big Blue walks his bike back, before slowly turning it around to rest just behind the line. "Bitten off more than yer can chew," he snears the Chapter Leader from the other gang. Boris Boromov finds a good place along the edge of the street to watch the impending showdown. Crossing his arms, he settles in for the show. Urfkgar's head shifts to the left and right to get his single eye focused on both Kolek and Tirax briefly. He asks, "What stupid softskins?" Kolek raises a brow, shaking his head. "Nothing at all." Tirax shrugs, smiling slightly at Urf. "Just watchin' the show." "You're rather cocky, for an ugly meatsack." Buddy says as he also redirects himself to behind the starting line. The Thumbs move across the street from the Dead Suns gang, making rude gestures to their rivals. Urfkgar grunts and steps off to the side so that Kolek and Tirax are no longer behind him, taking his case with him. One of the Biker's girls slips off the back of a spectaor's hoverbike, heading to stand between Big Blue and Buddy. She slowly raising both of her hands up, and bringing them down quickly to start the race, including something goofy that looks slightly like a bow. Boris Boromov takes another draw from his cigarette as the bikers line up and get set to start. Blowing out another cloud of smoke, he pays closer attention to the race, his interest becoming peaked. A sizeable group of Tomin Kora's denizens has gathered by this point, people have filtered out from the Twin Moons and the Warren to witness the bike race. Some people spectate from the upper floors of the ruined buildings, while others lean against crumbling ferrocrete. Big Blue's quick off the mark when the girl starts the race. The pipes ringing as the polydenum engine pulls the bike forward in a smooth lurch, gears changing up easily and smoothly. Buddy's bike fires forward, but he's not as quick to start as Blue, who pulls out ahead of him as they speed down the Strand. The Zangali, having moved away from Kolek and Tirax, observers the start of the race with his good eye. He moves to get in better position. Tirax is quite silent as he stands with his arms crossed, watching the race's start quite carefully. Kolek does the same, tilting his head to see how the race progresses, and get a good angle. The gathered crowd erupts in a cheer, rooting for either one or the other. The gangs are decidedly biased and each yell for their own leader. Shouting can be heard from the buildings as the folks with balcony seats cheer on their champion. Bets are being placed everywhere on the winner, credits exchanging hands in the crowd. Boris Boromov finishes off his cigarette, tossing it aside as the race gets underway. A grin of amusement works its way onto his face as the two gang leaders face off. "This will be interesting." he mutters to himself. Buddy leans forward, slicked back pompadour ruffling up from the wind resistance. Deftly avoiding a pile of rubble carelessly placed on the street, he glares at Big Blue as he presses down hard on the gas. The extra boost provided just about does it, as he moves to match Blue's speed. If this was a sports hoverbike, then there's a good chance that Big Blue would be leaning forward. But alas, it's just a chopper, so sitting up straight with his beard blowing in the air will have to do. The engine continues raise, slowly rising to reach a peak in a loud roar, before the gears are shifted up once more. He doesn't even send a glance over his shoulder, in a stereotypical fashion, to see where Buddy is, to busy negotiating the debris on the street. Urfkgar scratches at his shoulder as he continues to watch, moving along behind the two motorcycle riding types after he watches them pass him. Tirax follows along with the race as best possible at a slow jog. Kolek does the same, jogging along with Urf and Tirax. Boris Boromov begins to jog down the street a bit, trying to keep the race in sight. Big Blue is slowed down a considerable amount when the final gear change goes wrong. Too early. A glower is sent to Buddy when he starts to pass. The large man then tries to make himself a more stream lined individual, in an attempt to go just that little bit faster. The crowd in favor of Buddy starts cheering more, while those in favor of Big Blue boo louder. Some fists are thrown between the more aggressive of the two parties, but such confrontations end quickly. Urfkgar grunts vaguely as the race actually leads to a leader and a loser. He continues to amble along after the pair. Tirax smirks slightly to himself, keeping up the steady jog, even increasing in speed slightly. Kolek smirks as he watches the manuever, keeping a steady pace as he winces a little. "Hoop.." He mutters. Boris Boromov lets out a hearty laff as the one rider flips off the other. "That's good.." Big Blue knocks it back a gear, the engine roaring in protest as he catches up and gets in front of Buddy. In a rather cocky and foolish act, Blue stands up and like one of his club members, struggles to keep the bike under control before dropping his pants and mooning Buddy. Yes, he even stays like this, both hands going back to the handles, and wiggles that massive rear end in Buddy's direction. Buddy, distracted by the horror of Big Blue's enormous rump, barely manages to swerve out of the way of a hovercar shell laying in the street. Suddenly he's back in second place, muttering profanities to himself as he regains composure. Urfkgar grunts as Big Blue pulls the full moon stunt. He seems vaguely amused as he climbs up ontop of another hovercar shell for a better view, having given up on chasing the cycles. Laughter erupts at Big Blue's antics, but the Buddy fan club boos them. More fighting starts. Credits are being thrown back and forth as the first place position is contested. Tirax chuckles to himself, but shakes his head as he keeps up. Boris Boromov also gives up the chase, but can't help but laugh so hard at the mooning incident that he has to hold his stomach. Kolek laughs, also finding a hover car to stand on. And what happens with Big Blue Borgas' tom foolery? Well, he doesn't fall off, but something unexpected happens. Blue even doesn't have time to react, before a device buried in the Polydenum fuel tank causes it to explode, blowing the mooning man clear from his bike. Well, Big Blue tumbles, his body rolling towards several of the bystanders on the Strand, all 180kgs of him plowing into the group with screams and yelps of panic coming forth. If one was to listen closely, they'd easily notice and hear bones getting broken. Big Blue's bike? Well, that's just massive fireball, buring with the brightness of magnesium. End over end it goes, once chromed parts, blackened by intense heat, ripping off it and flying into the crowd. The wreckage hits a piece of reasonable size rubble, and this is where physics comes into play by deflecting the former bike and sending it slamming back into the crowd. Yes, people are hit. Yes, that burning fuel does cause some people to ignite. And yes, that flaming wreck does come to rest on someone. Granted, it's not the quickest reaction on record, but shortly after the explosion, the Zangali definately rolls off the hovercar frame into the cover it offers. Buddy laughs as the bike of his rival combusts, raising a triumphant fist in the air. The finish line is almost in sight. He leans forward, gripping the handlebar tightly. But then, as he is about to pass the point where Borgas met his end, his own bike erupts in a fantastic display of fire and shrapnel, propelling him through the air into a ferrocrete wall. The bike careens wildly and explodes again, throwing scalding metal everywhere. Tirax throws himself down as the bikes explode, trying to get under a hovercar if possible. Darya peers - carefully - out of the doors of the casino at all the boomstuff. Boris Boromov's bout of laughter is quickly silenced by the roaring explosion, and insticts cause him to leap off to the side to slide behind a pile of debris along one side of the street. "Hoop!" Kolek drops down onto all fours, behind the hovercar, next to Urf, he glances over, eyes slightly widened. He follows suit, with a, "Hoop!" Urfkgar grunts and looks over his silvery case deal, remaining hunkered down behind the hovercar for the time being A strange silence befalls the Strand after the two bikes have come to rest. Shock, is one expression some of the bystanders have. One member, a rather well muscled Sun roars out, "Fucking THUMBS!" as his battle cry. "You motha' fuckers are gonna pay!" Up comes an SMG, the safety switched off and the weapon clacking into life as it's fired from the hip towards the Thumbs and anyone else in that general direction. Hands tucked into the pockets of her tight black pants, Summer steps into the strand from the ruins. Her gaze is lowered, focusing on her right pocket from which she slowly seems to be removing something. Tirax crawls behind and as much under a hovercarframe as possible, spotting Kolek at the one a little further ahead, and then beginning to crawl towards that one as carefuly as possible. One of the Thumbs is dropped by the SMG fire, falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. "Shit! Louie!" "Let's fuck those Suns up!" The man's fellows all draw their own weapons and charge at the Dead Suns, firing sidearms and swinging crowbars. Those in the crowd decided its as good an excuse as any to all draw their own weapons and start beating the shit out of each other. The Strand is now filled with the sounds of gunfire and breaking bones. Kolek clenches his teeth, motioning Tirax over as he remains behind the car. "Come on, come on!" Darya stays firmly inside the doorway of the casino, watching the carnage as if the only thing missing might be a big tub of buttered popcorn. Boris Boromov reaches into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulls out an automatic pistol. With a quick motion a clip is slid into the grip and locked in place with a click. Entrenching himself behind the pile of debris, he watches the firefight carefully, keeping his weapon at the ready in case it gravitates in his direction. For now, he watches the crowd self-destruct. The sudden rumble of voices snaps Summer's head up, a look of shock and surprise crossing her features moments before a man is roughly pushed into her with enough force to bounce him off of her. She stumbles back several steps while the man stumbles forward and into an Ungstiri knife to the gut. The Suns leave their own side of the street, meeting the charge of the Thumbs with one of their own. A variety of vulgar warcrys and screams spills forth from their ranks. Some of their members fall from gun fire, providing trip hazards. While others fire back and engage with a combination of chains, crow bars and steel pipes. Crawling on the ground brings about its own dangers of being trampled in the maelstrom of hand to hand combatants. Urfkgar crouches with his back to the burnt out hover car. He remains out of the fighting if he's able, but he brings his shotgun out and rests it in his lap to provide visually reference as to why, among other things, it is best not to get him involved in the fighting. Tirax crawls faster, getting behind the hovercar next to Kolek and Urf. He looks about at the crowd and growls to himself, reaching to his wrists and withdrawing two rather nasty looking knives which appear to have been hidden in sheaths under his jumpsuit. Darya remains quietly within the relative safety of the casino doors. She seems to be counting bodies, her finger moving across the strand. Kolek reaches into his jacket and pulls out an automatic pistol and loading a clip in, leaning against the hover car like Urf, and grinding his teeth. He gives a nod to Tirax. "Nice to see you, Tovarish." Boris Boromov takes a peek over the top of the debris pile, smirking a bit as the body count rises. "Another day in the neighborhood..." he says, ducking back down as a round ricochets off the pile in front of him. Summer scans the room, finding the first source of cover she sees, an overturned hovercab and trying to make her way in that direction. The charging drunk coming from the left is handled by a sidestep to the right that places an old Timonae woman between her and the charging drunk. The folks in the skyscrapers decide to join in too, as ferrocrete bricks are dropped from the windows alongside a hail of bullets. A man rolls over the hovercar where Tirax and Kolek are located, the various weapons protruding from his body indicating that he might not be breathing. Someone fires off a plasma shot, provoking pained screams from its target. Another individual opens fire from one of the windows, shooting into the combatants blow. Bodies jiggling and recoiling after being hit. Rata-tat-tat-tat-tat! Three shot, burst fire? Not for that person. Well, that's before he's hit by a stray slug, slipping out of what remains of the window and falling to the dirt below. The man's blood trickling down into the gutter from a variety of wounds. The Suns continue, injured falling to the ground to only be finished with a gunshot or simply trampled under foot. Another step and Summer is out of the way as the man charges the old Timonae, both falling to the ground where they're quickly trampled by the mob. She is now only feet from her intended destination, the hovercab. Tirax smirks slightly to Kolek, keeping a careful eye on what's going on around him after the brief expression at the Ungstiri. Boris Boromov watches the carnage mount, for now keeping out of a battle he has no vested interest in. "At this rate, the good doctor is going to have all the study material she'll need." he says with a smirk. Kolek raises a brow as the could be corpse sails past him, motioning to Tirax, "Watch that side, I got this side, da?" He looks to see if Urf will help them any. "Study material, practice material, compost," says Darya, her finger moving over the field for all the world like 'eeny meeny miney moe'. The Zangali's definately looking out for his own best interests. Whether he's doing that in conjunction with the others using the hover car as cover is questionable. Bodies fall from the buildings as rioters on the street get in some good shots. Bullets and energy bolts fly overhead. An angry-looking Demarian jumps over Kolek and Tirax's hovercar, snarling at them. Two Lunites duke it out near Boris. A gun-toting Timonae approaches Urfkgar. The Suns start to fight their way back to their hoverbikes. They're not running away, just simply trying to get into a position to perform strategic retreat. One of the numbers takes a flachette shot to the back like a champ, section of his spine and ribs visible while he drops to the ground. A large member of the Suns levels his shotgun towards an eldery Sivadian who somehow found himself here, the other party dropping to his knees to attempt to hold his stomach in... Well, what's left of it. The gun toting Timonae gets a sawn off shotgun pointed at him with a single eyed lizard crouching behind the weapon. Does the Zangali bother to talk about it, no, he gently squeezes the trigger in a pre-emptive strike against the shady character. The overturned hovercab is large, but apparently not large enough to keep Summer from using it as a springboard to the hovercab's more protected side. Unfortunatelly, her acrobatic maneuver lands her squarely on top of Urfkgar where he sits, shotgun resting on his lap. Boris Boromov hears the sound of a fisticuff getting closer to his 'foxhole' and whips around to bring the pistol to bear on the pair of Lunites. For now, he watches, keeping an eye on them and just how close their match will get. To perhaps get their attention and alert them to their impending predicament, he slides the bolt on his pistol to cock it, resulting in a loud chik-chik as a round is chambered. Kolek raises his automatic pistol and cracks off a shot at the snarling Demarian, teeth clenched, though the snap movement hurts a little. The Demarian sidesteps Tirax's stabs and dives out of the way of Kolek's shot. "That all you got?" The felinoid snarls. "No," remarks Tirax, driving forward with just one knife this time, the one in his left hand out of use for a moment. There's a boom from the Zangali's shotgun that misses rather badly before he gets landed on by Summer. He plants his bad hand on the ground to keep his balance, not really doing anything else at the moment. Chik-chik, comes the metallic response from Kolek's weapon, teeth clenched in pain from a possible unseen wound. Raising the gun again, he fires at the Demarian again. The Suns get back to their bikes after losing a few more of their numbers. Some are killed in the saddles, while others force their way into the crowd with their bikes. A slow ride starts to take them out, fending off attackers with either chains and whatever else they have at hand. About 10 of the Suns make it out of the melee, the rest still committed or dragged from the saddles and bludgeoned. Zangali's may be large, but it certainly doesn't translate to a soft landing. Limbs entangled, Summer tries to disentangle herself from the mass of arms and weapons she now finds herself joined with. "Fuckin' move!" she complains. Meanwhile, the Thumbs have also hightailed it, jumping on their bikes and getting the hell out. Some fire a few shots back into the crowd. The Lunites pause to look at Boris, both in mid-swing. One has a stroke of genius and cold-clocks the other before he can react, sending him sprawling. The Timonae ducks as a reaction to the shotgun, but seems slightly confused as Summer leaps upon the lizard. Boris Boromov rises to his feet, the pistol aimed at the remaining Lunite. "A good move, comrade, but now I suggest to back off before I have to poke a few holes in your chest. Help your lungs get more air, da?" he says with a smirk. Kolek and Tirax's fight with the Demarian continues to be a stalemate, as the felinoid ducks and weaves from their assault with unerring agility. "Pathetic," it murmurs to the pair. Tirax turns to look at Summer. "Hey pretty lady," he grins, sliding his knives back into their sheathes, then reaching behind his neck and in one smooth movement, throwing a knife that was concealed there at the Demarian. Yeah, the Zangali manages to stand up despite the sudden hitch hiker. He works on leveling the shotgun again in order to fire that other and final barrel at his Timonae target. Kolek tries to supress the pain in his chest, teeth clenched as he shoots again at the elusive Demarian. Summer smiles, attempts at freeing herself halted at the sight of Tirax, "Hey se.." her words turn into a yell as Urfkgar stands and she's reduced to attempting to hold on for dear life. Her left leg is slung over her left shoulder, right arm around his neck, "Get down!" she yells, "Are you crazy?!" she asks incredously. The Demarian shakes its head as further attempts on Kolek and Tirax's part prove futile. "Weak--" He's cut off by stray pulse fire that riddles his body. The smell of burning fur is quickly noticeable. A loud crack rings out as a Timonae body hits the ferrocrete with a sound thud, body ripped open by a shotgun blast. "Damn.. I was looking forward to killing that overgrown rug," sighs Tirax. "Wasted a good knife too.." He looks over to where Urf has Summer around his neck and smirks slightly. "Let go, I'll catch you," he says to Summer, moving himself to a position where he'd be able to. Urfkgar grunts vaguely at Summer before he takes a knee, otherwise ignoring her as he breaks open the breach of his weapon and begins to change out the shells. Tirax doesn't get much attention either as he concentrates on the task at hand. Kolek seethes, punching his fist onto the ground, " Hoopin' rug got my wound re-opened!" He lets two bullets into the Demarian's face, mercilessly, then looks at Urf standing up, Summer around him. "Well..." "You threatenin' me, pal?" The Lunite thug moves for a pistol holstered at his side, eyes narrowing at Boris. Boris Boromov notes the movement, and doesn't waste time. "Da. I am." With a narrowing of the eyes, he pulls the trigger, the pistol aimed at the Lunite's chest. Tirax grins, opening his arms to catch the falling Summer. Fortunately Timonae are slightly softer than Zangali, and Tirax also moves with the impact, slowing her down and just elicting a slight 'oof' from him. "How romantic, Da?" Kolek says as he watches the display with a smirk, "Not sure we're out of this yet." He switches to a full clip. Boris Boromov steps over towards the Lunite, pistol aimed at the Lunite's head. He takes a moment to observe if the Lunite remains alive or not, but regardless of which is the case, he pulls the trigger again to send a bullet flying at the man's head. "Tell the devil that Boris sent you." Urfkgar finishes with reloading his shotgun and snaps the breach shut again. He remains kneeling down by the hovercar. The riot is still going, though seems to have quelled a bit, thanks to many of its participants being killed or maimed. The crack of sniper rifles sound from the rooftops in the general vicinity of the Warren and the Twin Moons. "I think i'm in love." Summer says playfully before hopping out of Tirax's arm and ducking down behind the hovercab more then happy to let the others handle the shooting. Sniper fire doesn't bode well for the Zangali. Staying low, he beats feet in the other direction, moving to keep cover between him and the fire. Boris Boromov ducks back down behind the pile of debris as sniper fire opens up from above. "You didn't bring flowers darlin'," drawls Tirax, regaining his hidden position and unsheathing one of his knives again, holding it tightly in hand. He looks across to Kolek and frowns. "Looks like you need a doctor.. I know of one around here who might be able to help ya." "If its Darya, forget about it." Kolek says, glancing around for the snipers, behind the car. The rioters start to disperse as the sniper fire picks them off one by one, ducking into buildings or otherwise retreating. Eventually the sniper fire ceases. Urfkgar makes off like a bandit towards the fallen aerie, eventually making it out of sight, out of mind, maybe. Boris Boromov eases up from behind the debris, and after waiting a few more moments to see if the sniper fire has truly ceased, he begins to head towards the casino, using any cover along the sidewalk he can find as he does. Category: Classic Underworld logs